


Painting of Passion

by catpawz



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Painting, Praise Kink, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-04
Updated: 2015-11-04
Packaged: 2018-04-30 01:05:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5144675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catpawz/pseuds/catpawz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for <a>Wham! Splat! Porn! </a>, with the prompt "silver and gold."</p>
<p>Bull convinces Dorian to let an artist paint them mid-fuck. Dorian is unamused.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Painting of Passion

When Bull says he “knows a guy…”, almost always something good comes out of it. Granted, what was happening now wasn’t exactly bad, but it most certainly wasn’t what Dorian was expecting.

Bull happened to know a great deal of “guys”, and when he shared this with Dorian, it meant something new for the bedroom. Either a toy, some bondage set or another, or maybe Bull just “knows a guy” who gave him a good idea for a scene. Dorian shouldn’t have been surprised to find that one of the guys Bull knew was an artist. 

Apparently, Bull’s friend was working on a set of paintings, all centered around men and women at the peak of passion. Bull, being the generous friend that he was, volunteered him and Dorian to be the man’s first models, assuming Dorian agreed.

Perhaps it was because Dorian didn’t quite understand the thought process behind works of art, or maybe because he was averse to the idea of someone else watching them, but the whole purpose behind these paintings made no sense to him. They were suppose to be innovative, and help show the various kinds of love between different races and different genders, how in the end, they were all really the same. A nice thought, but it would hardly take off in Orlais, where the man was hoping to jump start his career as an artist.

In the end, however, Dorian agreed. Bull had promised that the man would leave if Dorian grew uncomfortable, all he had to do was say the word. If he didn’t, Bull had his ways.

So now here he was, pinned down to the bed by Bull’s massive body, some man Dorian had never met watching them intently and occasionally sketching something down with a nubby bit of charcoal.

They had to move slowly, if at all, so that the artist would have plenty of time to work out the basics for his painting. After a while, he promised, he would have every detail of the scene memorized, and they could go about their day.

“Such exquisite form…” the man muttered, and Dorian would have told him to keep the comments to himself, if a particularly sudden thrust from Bull hadn’t knocked the majority of the air from his lungs. “Such lovely colors.”

“Why is he here again?” Dorian hissed quietly, once he had caught his breath. 

Bull grinned down at him, “you know what to say if you want to stop.” He thrust forward again, burying the remainder of his cock deep inside of Dorian. He groaned at the sensation and arched back, much to the artist’s delight, it seemed.

“Yes! Beautiful, beautiful,” he exclaimed in his thick accent, quickly drawing a few lines onto his canvas. It looked entirely random to Dorian, and for a moment, he wondered if the man was drawing anything at all. Regardless, he seemed content with the charcoal sketch, and pulled a palette and paints from the bag he had brought with him.

“How’s it going?” Bull asked, voice perfectly smooth, as if he did this often. Dorian, on the other hand, was going mad with lust. It was bad enough when Bull teased him, at least then a proper amount of begging could convince the brute to get on with it. Now, there was very little Dorian could do to urge Bull on, the artist would yell at them to slow down, he couldn’t get the lines right. Dorian knew from experience.

“Excellent,” the artist was beaming as he mixed various paints. “Just slow down a tad. I should have a base to go off of later soon.” Dorian groaned his displeasure loudly, and the artist gave him a pointed look.

“Art does not come quickly! It takes time, patience, from both the artist and his models. Please, keep your comments to yourself!” He was one to talk, Dorian thought to himself.

If the man was really so close to being done with his base, then surely it wouldn’t hurt to move. Just a little? Dorian carefully squeezed his legs around Bull’s hips and attempted to fuck himself on Bull’s cock.

“Keep still, I said!” The artist barked, but Bull seemed quite amused by the action. Dorian opted to ignore the artist and continued to take his pleasure.

Finally, finally, Dorian was getting something good out of this whole mess. A warm, steady pressure built up against his lower spine, but it was nothing near the kind of pleasure Dorian would hope to experience. Bull, of course, was as still as a statue, watching Dorian struggle with a fully amused expression on his features. The artist was painting hastily, clearly not as amused at Dorian’s misbehaving.

Before Dorian could get anywhere good, however, his legs and core began to ache. This was hardly a good position for riding the Bull, he had no proper angle to go off of, nothing to help ease the process. Why did Bull actually have to be in him? Why couldn’t they just pretend?

“It has to look natural,” the artist had said. A better excuse than what Dorian expected, and yet he didn’t believe it for a second.  
“Soon, kadan, he’s almost done,” Bull soothed, one massive hand moving from it’s position next to Dorian’s shoulder to rub at the man’s now aching thigh. Maker damn the idea of him being “almost done,” he had said that five times in the past hour! Or had he only said it once? Has it even been an hour?

“You’re doing so well,” Bull had leaned down to whisper against Dorian’s ear, and of course the artist didn’t call him out or anything. The words sent shivers down Dorian’s spine, making him mewl and whine in desperation. “So good for me, you’re feel so good once this is all over.”

Dorian believed that, but he wasn’t in any mindset to wait until this was over to get a sweeter reward. He wanted something, anything, now. He attempted moving again, as he was earlier, but Bull’s gentle grip on Dorian’s thigh only made it more difficult. Probably for the best, he’d end up with an awful cramp if he tried for too long.

The artist, which Dorian was no longer truly aware of, blotted paint onto his canvas, glancing eagerly between at the two and his work. If all his models looked like this, passion resonating off of them, perhaps his project would go over better than he could have possibly expected!

He grinned wide, “perfect! I’ve never seen anything like this.”

“Can we move yet,” Bull asked, for Dorian obviously. He didn’t seem at all affected by the fact that he was balls-deep in his mage.

“What?” The man looked up from his art, finally pulled out of his trance, “oh, yes, I suppose you may. If you could hold still for just a moment longer, however…”

Much to Dorian’s pleasure, Bull didn’t wait for the man to finish. He pulled out partially and drove back into Dorian. No matter how much he tried to hold back, Dorian couldn’t keep the scream from bubbling up his throat and out of his mouth. 

Bull took the new-found, semi-permission to move and ran with it. Brutally he pounded Dorian into the mattress, and Dorian, limp from the exhaustion of attempting to move himself on Bull’s fat dick, could do little but take it. Not that he wanted for anything else in the world.

The artist was ‘tsk’ing away beside the bed, clearly displeased that his models were no longer cooperating, but Dorian didn’t hear him.

Bull found his own release suddenly. Despite Dorian’s belief that he was completely unaffected by the waiting, he had eagerly been anticipating this moment since the artist began, the moment when they would be allowed to move and he could thank Dorian for keeping half-still for so long. He only wished he could hold out longer. 

Dorian didn’t seem to mind. He moaned as Bull filled him, cum shooting up into his body, drops which could not be contained falling lewdly out of him from around Bull’s cock. Bull wrapped a massive hand around Dorian’s weeping prick, then, pumping it rapidly, out-of-time with his wild, weakening thrusts. Dorian found his own release not long after, his own cum striping his and Bull’s chest.

And after that… Dorian couldn’t manage to recall. He assumed he had passed out, which made enough sense he supposed. Bull did that to him.

(line)

It was a few months later when Bull receive the package. 

The line of paintings did shockingly well in Orlais, and the artist was on his way to taking his paintings and displaying them in one of the most prestigious museums in Val Royeaux. When he told Dorian this, the mage sniffed and responded “good for him”. 

Within the package was a painting, the one the man had made that night, months ago. Not an original, of course, but it was damn well good enough, at least to Bull.

The painting really did show the two of them at their best. Thick paint strokes gave the impression of movement, Dorian’s back arched and lips parted slightly, Bull looming over him with the softest expression of awe in his one eye… Though it all paled in comparison to the colors.

They weren’t entirely accurate to their skin tones, but they were beautiful all the same. Glimmering shades of silver and gold just on the brink of melting into one another, yet still managing to remain separate enough to accurately make up the two bodies. Deep browns and oranges swam around them, making it so their bodies nearly shone against the background.

Maybe Bull would hang this over the mantle in his room. Dorian would probably yell at him for it, but it’d be worth it.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on my [tumblr](http://chicaaago.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> Requests are always welcomed.


End file.
